Harriet Dotter and the Magicians Gem: Year 1
by Blondie B. Happy
Summary: Harriet Dotter has lived in the cupboard under the stairs for most her life. When she finds out that she is a witch, she will gain new friends and new enemies, but mostly, a new life in a new, wonderful, world where nothing is as it seems! REVIEW! Enjoy!


**This is my first story for Harry Potter! I have three others for Percy Jackson, Tiger's Curse series, and Maximum Ride! Please review, PM and suscribe! This is a parody to Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone! Harry Potter is my all time favorite series! I read it in fourth grade! I have a friend who read the series in second grade! But I also know many adults who have read it! I think everyone should read this series. IT IS NOT STUPID! It makes me SO mad when people say that Harry Potter is stupid. They haven't even read the series, so how would they know? I hope my point is made!**

**Happy Reading!**

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><p>1. The Girl who Lived<p>

The Dudder's had always been a very peculiar family; they spied on the neighbors when they were mowing the lawn or cutting the shrubs. They absolutely, positively, adored their son, Deuce. They weren't very sociable either.

Yet they were terrified of the Dotter's.

Daisy Dotter and Chrysanthemum Dudder were sisters from the Jack family that had been part of Scotland for a very, very long time. They had been best friends, so close to each other. But then Daisy had started to do very strange things. After one horrible accident, they became enemies.

Daisy was part of _their_ world. Not the world that Chrysanthemum was part of. Nor would she ever be.

Of course, at first, Chrysanthemum had been envious. She had wanted to go to the school too. She had even had the nerve to write the headmaster a strongly worded letter. He had, obviously, been most kind when he responded, loving her courage to ask. But no, she couldn't go.

So she grew up, went to a regular school, and became the most popular. She had become homecoming queen and captain of the cheerleading team. Soon, she fell in love with Victor Dudder, and they got married.

But there was still Daisy. She became top of her class and started dating Jeremiah Dotter in her last year of the outstanding school. They also got married, and gave birth to their daughter, Harriet Dotter.

Daisy had always kept in touch with Chrysanthemum. She sent them Christmas cards, but never got any sent back. Daisy always asked for a family gathering, but Victor and Chrysanthemum would object, sometimes giving and excuse, sometimes just saying no.

But then, for many years before Deuce and Harriet were born, the Dotter family went silent. And the Dudder's were perfectly fine with that.

When Deuce was born, the Dudder's did not tell the Dotter's, but somehow, they knew about Deuce's birth and sent flowers in the mail, congratulating them. They did not respond.

Then, shortly after in July, Harriet was born. The Dotter's sent word of her birth to the Dudder's. And they only had one thought.

_Great. Another one._

So they got pictures and letters quite frequently. But the last letter the Dudder's ever got from the Dotter's was the one containing a picture of Harriet on her first birthday.

A couple weeks after they received the letter, the world changed. Many were shocked. Few mourned. Most celebrated.

For the Dudder's, it had been a normal day. Chrysanthemum got out of bed and shuffled to the loo. She brushed her teeth and combed her brown hair. She stared at her growing wrinkles around her eyes. She put on makeup so that her husband would not notice the dark bags under her eyes and the huge pimple on her left cheek.

She finished her prepping and then went to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of black coffee. A few minutes later, Victor came into the kitchen, scratching his short beard with growing gray hair. His double chin was still growing. He gave a long sigh and pecked Chrysanthemum of the cheek, thankfully her right. Then there was a loud screech of a hungry baby.

Deuce was awake.

Chrysanthemum scurried off to his room and gently took him out of his crib. She soothed him and rocked him, but once you spoil a baby, that baby stays spoiled. That was their case.

"Shh, baby, mommy loves you. Do you want some ice cream?" That seemed to put off alarms in his tiny baby mind. He waved his porky arms in an accepting manner as his mother cradled him.

"Yes, yes. I know. Let's get you some vanilla!"

"WWWAAAA!"

"Okay, baby. How about some chocolate?" she tried. Deuce shut up quickly.

"Yes, that sounds very nice, now doesn't it?"

"Mommy! I want it!" he yelled in his baby-garbled speech.

"Let's get you some then!"

As Deuce stuffed his face full of ice cream and sat in his high chair that was almost too small for him, Chrysanthemum went back to her bedroom to get dressed. She put on some black flats and tights, pulled on a black skirt that fell to her knees, and put on a white shirt with a horrid pink sweater over it, even though it was fairly warm outside. When Victor came in, she left to care for Deuce.

Shortly later, Victor walked out wearing his gray suit. His thinning hair was neatly brushed, and his tie was undone. He walked over to his wife, who did it for him as she did every morning.

"Have good sales," she told him.

"Okay. Love you, Christy," he smiled not-so-warmly. He walked over to Deuce and patted his growing hair, then walked out the door. He got in his automobile and Chrysanthemum watched him drive away.

Victor Dudder sold insurance. It was not a fun job.

Not at all.

When he arrived, he walked inside the building and went to his small, depressing cubicle.

And sat there for 12 hours.

He was brought a chicken sandwich for lunch, which he almost devoured in one huge gulp. Business was slow that day. The sky was gray and shedding its tears. Some people did not know why nothing was happening.

Others knew that nothing was happening because it already had.

So Victor drove home to his tan two-leveled house labeled 13 at the end of the day. He was stuck in the evening traffic, like always. So it had been a very boring say for him.

While he had been sitting, writing useless junk on a notepad, Chrysanthemum had been cleaning the house, making every inch of it perfection. Deuce had been watching television, laughing at his little toddler shows. When he had an accident, he cried so loudly that the nice old lady across the street stopped her knitting and looked through her lace curtains at the Dudder house. His mother would run in and try to comfort him, but after about twenty minutes, she would give up and change him.

In between the meltdowns, Christy would grab her binocular and stare at the neighbors beside their house. They were always laughing much too loudly, and they drove her and Victor insane. But then at one moment, her vision was blocked by an owl.

It was a beautiful owl, white with black streaks here and there. She tried screaming at it to fly away, but it never did. Finally, she decided to walk outside and use force to make it fly away. But when she opened the door, her line of stalking was blocked by a thin, old, German Sheppard.

"Go away!" she yelled at it, but it did not move. She went to the hall cupboard under the stairs and grabbed a broom. She swat and swung at it, and after successfully hitting it in the head, it yelped and ran away.

"Good riddance!" she yelled after it. She went to the side of the house to get rid of the owl, but it too had left.

When Victor got home, Chrysanthemum made chopped liver and onions for dinner. Deuce managed to throw his on the ground, and Victor cleaned it up. After doing the dishes and putting Deuce to sleep, Chrysanthemum and Victor went to sleep also.

So yes, it had been a pretty normal day for some people.

But not for all.

Especially for the Dotter's.

Late that night, no one noticed an old man in multicolored robes shuffling down the streets. He carried a flashlight but did not have it on, which some people may have found odd. Captain Street looked beautiful in the full moon, but the man did not have time to stop and stroke his long white bread in thoughtfulness about the beauty of the night. He was doing something very dangerous and possibly illegal.

The old German Sheppard walked out of the woods with a slight limp. When the man noticed this, he pulled a delicately crafted stick out of his robes and waved it.

"_Episkey_," he murmured, and the blood leaking out of the dog's hind leg and ear were gone.

And then the dog transformed into an old woman.

She wore a long green robe with carefully etched designs on it. Her witch's hat was tilted slightly to the right, and her gray hair was a rat's nest.

"Thank you for being my spy, Minnie," said the man calmly.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked in a thick Scottish accent . "These are the worst Muggle's imaginable. I've been watching them all day long. The aunt hit my head with a broom oh so rudely-"

"But they are the only family she has left. She has no one else to go to."

Minnie looked up at the stars. "She will be famous. Everyone will know her name. Even people who don't speak our tongue!"

"Yes, and she should not grow up knowing this. It will make her stronger by staying here."

"Isn't she already strong enough?"

He didn't answer her question. "I just want her to be safe."

"Well, you can start by putting out these wretched lights."

"Right you are!" He aimed the flashlight at the nearest street lamp and flicked it on. It sucked out the light and embedded itself inside it. He did this to every single one in a hundred-yard diameter.

Just then, a deafening roar came from the sky. Both looked up to see a motorcycle flying out of the clouds. It landed on the street and came to stop fifty yards away from where the two were standing. A giant man stepped out, holding a bundle of baby pink blankets in his arms.

The man was at least eight feet tall with a bushy brown beard that lead to his hair. He had scars all over his face. He had leather gloves on his huge hands and a helmet the barely fit on head and he had a size X times 20 trench coat on.

"The house wa' fallin' down on 'er," he said in a gruff voice. "I just saved her. It was nasty. The place gave me the shivers. And I sa' the parents. Dead. It was so horrible. 'Ow do you think 'e lived?"

"I have my theories," the old man said.

"Bu' no one has ever survived somethin' like that before! 'E will be famous!"

"I was just saying that," grumbled Minnie.

"Righ' now, 'e's asleep. What d' we d' now?"

"We leave her," the old man said.

As they walked over to house 13, the giant asked, "D' you think h' still alive?"

"Somewhere, Harold, somewhere. I know it as do many others."

"Death eaters are going to be hiding," Minnie told them. "They will beg for our forgiveness. They will insist that they were forced to follow You-Know –Who, and-"

"And we know that they chose freely. And we know not to trust them completely. And that will be enough."

Minnie did not respond. And neither did the man.

They walked up the steps. Harold set the bundle gently down on the doormat. Inside the bundle was a baby girl, eyes shut, soundly sleeping. Right under her short bangs was a scar in the shape of a cross.

The old man took a letter out of his robes and set it on top of Harriet. It was labeled: The Dudder's.

A tear fell down Harold face. Ironic how he had just met her and now didn't even want to let her go.

"Now, now, Harold. You will see her again before you know it."

Harold swiped at the tears, trying to make them go away. "I know."

The three turned around. The old man looked left and the right down Captain Street. Then he turned around and looked down with pride at the young girl.

"Good luck, Harriet Dotter," he whispered. Then all three of them vanished into thin air.

That night, Harriet would sleep on the front doorstep. The next morning, his aunt and uncle, Chrysanthemum and Victor, would scream in horror and shock. And then, in years to come, Harriet would once again be reunited with the three that left her here.

And she would, some day, have to come face-to-face with the evil man that gave her her scar. Because of him, she would be stuck at this house for a while with these… monsters. Because of him, she would never see her parents again.

But at that point, people all around the world were talking and laughing with joy and victory. The topic of every discussion was always the same.

Harriet Dotter. The girl who lived.

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><p><strong>TADA! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE! I'm going to a party tonight with my friends:) Last year, they had a chocolate fountain! YUMMY! I cannot wait to leave! Can you tell what I changed in the story? <strong>


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